Guitar Gangsters And Cadillac Blood Novels & Stories

“I’m not gonna kill you, Stewart, not now. But I do have a different kind of hell planned for you. If you want to be spared, you’ll cooperate. I need to know any other names that come to mind as soon as you think of them. I also need you to try to find Hines for me. Got it, pal? If you don’t wanna be my special guinea pig, find me Hines or Holland.” “I... I’ll... try.” She leaned down, ignoring the stench, so that her face was right in front of his. “You’ll do more than try. Find them. Or you’ll regret it.” Cadence started singing the little that she knew of the song “Blue Moon,” changing the words to “Blood Moon,” and pulled open the door to see Cale standing across the hall with his arms f

“I ain’t gonna warn you no more.” Frank searched through the files and took out a picture, then dropped it on the table in front of Shady. “Look at this.” He passed it across so that he could see it. “These are the remains of your gang. They were found early this morning, lying dead in Pittsburgh street. It is all over the news. Although an official statement on the incident hasn’t been made yet, we suspect that they were murdered by something we, at TCU, like to call shifter.” Shady glanced at the photograph, eyes bulging and hands visibly shaking. “No! This ain’t true. This ain’t true!” he bellowed.

he explains, I laugh a little with a shake of the head. "What kind of stuff would he do?" I ask if he was one of the biggest criminals he must have been doing some bad things, but again I couldn't picture my dad doing any of that. "They'd rob shops, steal cars, buy guns and sometimes off people," he tells me, now this definitely didn't sound like my dad "it was all going well for them until they off'd a man called Chase Wilkins," he says, that's the man my dad and that dude were talking about years ago.

CHAPTER 1: ROCK STAR COCK JUNO’S POV June 12th Dear Diary, I swore I was done with musicians after Jake, that emotionally volatile guitarist who ghosted me mid-tour for a groupie with a trust fund and daddy issues. I promised myself no more late-night jam sessions that dissolved into even later-night entanglements, no more lyrics whispered against my skin, no more calloused fingers that knew exactly how to pluck strings and pull orgasms from my body in the same breath.

My phone rang, making me release her. She coughed, grasping for air as I picked up my phone. Ricco is the dialer. I took the call. "Sup?" "OG." "What's going on?" I asked, taking notice of his dull voice. "Them Jerkins boys, OG. They are at it again." Motherfuckers. "What they do this time?" I asked as Imani got on her feet and headed towards the stairs. I stared at her as she walked. "They burnt two malls in the hood."

What surprised me the most was that he got his Billionaire title at 21. Clyde has always been smart. I always knew he was meant to be successful one day, but I never thought it would go up to this type of scale. He has a security and tech company that the government and many people go to unfold everything related to tracking, hacking, and the dark web. According to many articles online, he's part of a circle named The Bloodhounds. Some reports mentioned that he has some ties to the mafia, which I hope he doesn't have because I imagine how dangerous it would be for him to be related to criminals.

"That's right. That's exactly what he said. No one wants to mess with the European cartel, and Rodrigo was one of them. If we don't clean this mess up nicely, it's over for us." He shakes his head and pours himself a drink. "We should've dealt with them a long time ago. What are we waiting for, in any case? Let's advance. Let's send these teenagers all the way to fucking hell. Do you know how this has tainted our reputation? They're a bunch of prepubescent dicks giving us a hard time. If we can't deal with kids, how are we expected to deal with real motherfuckers?" "I've already talked to Gary—"

We stood at a corner and waited for Eduardo to find a suitable parking space. As we waited, Alessandro faced me and asked, “Do you know the name of our gang?” “No.” “It’s CDP. Short forCalcio Della Pistola.” “Casio? As in Casio wristwatch?” “No. Calcio Della Pistola. Translated to your English, it means Butt Of the Gun.” “Your gang name is Bumbum of the Gun?” “Don’t put it that way.” Alessandro was not digging my attempt at being humorous.

Adriano ⫘☠︎︎⫘ The air stank of gasoline and gunpowder. Concrete dust clung to my tongue. Somewhere in the distance, a car alarm howled like a dying animal. I ducked behind the hood of a burned-out Cadillac, reloading with blood-slick fingers. My breath came ragged, fire scraping up my ribs. “Arturo?” I barked, twisting to look over my shoulder. Nothing but a dying wheeze and then silence.

"You think I’m the bad guy here, blonde?" I didn’t bother responding. I was too hungry and frankly didn’t trust myself to say something that wouldn’t start another argument. "But seriously," Mason cut in, clearly annoyed, "Ivan’s been acting really weird lately. Dude walked in on me while I was taking a leak just to ask for a damn report about the thing we did." Chase snorted. "What thing?" I asked, eyeing Mason. He smirked. "We executed a drug dealer who was selling to high school kids on our turf." He even had the nerve to wink like he was telling a joke.